CHACE Crawford of “Gossip Girl” is labeled a “hottie.” Miley Cyrus supposedly drools for him. He’s been photographed all over Leighton Meester and Carrie Underwood. Fangazines squeak that he’s Earth’s most beautiful male. His father’s a skin doctor, sister’s a beauty-contest winner. Perfect looks ooze through his pores. So I asked if maybe he was, maybe, an ugly kid growing up.

“Oh, please,” he grinned self-effacingly, “It’s sort of fun when people say those nice things about me, but I’m not thinking I’m anybody so special. And I can’t say I actually stopped the world when I was in school. I mean, I didn’t have a really hard time getting girls. It’s not that I was ever a dork or anything like that. It’s more that I was into sports. For me, when I was younger, it was sports. I’d say I was just plain Mr. Johnny Everyday in school.”

Chace Crawford, unlike those of his generation, was not in sneakers, jeans, T-shirt and crapola leather jacket. His head was not artfully crafted by a hairdresser, so certain strands decorated his forehead. He wore an elegant suit, shirt, tie, shined shoes and hair slicked back neatly.

“I think I’m just a late bloomer,” he said.

BEING a chronicler of events – whatever that fancy phrase means – I hereby chronicle Cinema Society’s screening for “Milk” starring Sean Penn as San Fran’s first openly gay politician Harvey Milk. Jeff Goldblum and Ed Koch arrived simultaneously. Not together. Koch schlepped a cane that turns into a chair. Not to worry. The Cinema Society’s founder Andrew Saffir had a seat for him. Steve Buscemi and his longtime wife arrived separately and kissed lustily on the lips. Like they last saw one another in February. “Haven’t seen her since this morning,” Steve said. It was a freezing cold night. Designer Valentino, newly appearing everywhere like crab grass, quickly removed his puffy beige car coat and awaited his turn for photographers snapping Willem Dafoe, Jon Voight and director Ang Lee.

And in came the star. Aides, heralds, courtiers, gofers preceded Sean Penn’s coming. He lacked only the Magi, the trumpets and a nimbus. Whispers came back like, “Sean may not stop . . . Sean mightn’t talk to anyone . . . you know how Sean is . . . we never know how Sean is . . . well, that’s how Sean is . . . ”

Being of a mind to chronicle events, I hereby chronicle the fact that I don’t know why our most brilliant talents – De Niro, Streisand, Sean Penn – are each sworn to be a pain in the ass. Granted incredible stunning towering ability, the Omnipotent Divine Providence then shortchanges their accommodating gene. This He seems to give to bosomy blondes with nipples so sharp they pierce the camera lens. On subzero nights, they’ll stand in stockingless strappy sandals and low-cut dresses pirouetting endlessly. And now that I’ve postulated endlessly, back to Sean:

He stopped. Smiled. Spoke. Even kissed my cheek. And said about the character he plays: “I never actually saw Harvey Milk in real life. I regret that. I certainly wish I had met him.” Having been outside doing the red carpet, Sean was shivering, and we were talking right inside the door. “I’ve got to get into the theater. I’m frozen.” And he added: “As far as I’m concerned, this is going to be a great Thanksgiving. I have a lot to be grateful for.” Whether he meant the movie or the election I don’t know because by then the aides, heralds, courtiers and gophers had collected him and I was heading for popcorn.

PEOPLE in employment services say we’ll see fewer Santas on the streets or department stores this year. One who provides Santas even for private parties and charity affairs says, “It’ll be a 20 percent reduction in Santa Clauses. And those hired will have reduced shifts. Mr. Clauses everywhere are even getting 15 percent pay cuts.” About Donner and Blitzen, so far I have no information.

AND let it be known Rabbi Shmuel Butman, who, with the passing of the Great Rebbe Menachem Schneerson, wants Barry Diller to “Con sider lighting the World’s Greatest Hanukkah Memorial at Fifth Avenue and 59th Street this Hanukkah. It begins Sunday evening Dec. 21. The last candle is lighted Sunday evening Dec. 28. Previous participants include Sen. Schumer and Elie Weisel. He may light any night of his convenience.” Just letting you know, Barry.

OVERHEARD at a gym on the Upper West Side: “They’re going to put out an Osama bin Laden watch. You wind it up and it sets the world back a hundred years.”